Have You Not Loved Me?
by M C Pehrson
Summary: Story #60 On Vulcan, T'Naisa Brandt's brush with death awakens Spock's love for her, but will she betray him again?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

It was after school hours and Spock felt unaccountably tense. Yet another sandstorm battered the shielded windows of the Baruk School office as he sat working out the final details of the upcoming lecture tour. He might have blamed his mood on the inclement weather, but even before the storm he had begun to yearn for the remote mountain cabin he shared with T'Naisa and James on Earth.

Beyond Spock's desk, James slouched morosely in a chair, tossing a scuffed baseball from hand to hand. The boy was thirteen now and showed definite signs of adolescence, some of which could be quite bothersome.

"Father," he interrupted for the seventh time, "why can't we just go to Plum Creek now?"

Having already heard the same question in various other forms, Spock's patience was severely challenged. "I have told you. First we must gather more funds for the construction of the retreat house."

The baseball went still. James scowled as he said, "I wish…I just wish you weren't changing things there. I like it the way it is."

"I see," Spock said with some displeasure. "Have you been discussing the matter with T'Naisa?"

The boy's chin came up and his eyes flashed. "Sure, I've mentioned it to her, but she agrees with you. She always agrees with you."

 _If only it were so,_ Spock mused.

James was still frowning. "It's been months and months. Why can't we just go and worry about the money later?"

Spock's patience snapped. "Stop asking! Go find some useful activity or I will find one for you."

The baseball dropped to the floor. James threw himself from the chair and stormed out of the office.

oooo

"Double fudge brownies!" T'Naisa inhaled the delicious aroma, treasuring it for a moment, before diving into the bag. Taking a huge, mouthwatering bite, she said, "Oh Travis, you really know how to get on my good side, don't you?"

They sat across from one another at a dining hall table, snug and safe, while outside the storm raged.

"It's not as if I baked them," Travis said amiably. "I have my sources; it's no hardship bringing you these little treats. And it's plain that you appreciate good food."

T'Naisa laughed. "That's a very kind way of putting it. Spock says…" She stopped herself, remembering that the two men did not care for one another, though she had no idea why. At first she had fallen in with Spock's antagonistic attitude, but Travis proved hard to dislike. As time went on, she found herself actually looking forward to these little visits with the graying British doctor. Perhaps he _was_ a bit roguish, but his company was always pleasant and he made her laugh, which helped ease the sting of Spock's persistently aloof behavior.

Suddenly she heard footsteps. Jamie ran up to the table, peered into the bag, and grabbed a brownie.

She gave him a disapproving look. "Did I hear 'please'? Did I hear 'Hello, Doctor Van Allen'?"

"Please and hello, Doctor Van Allen," Jamie said in a rush, then stuffed the entire brownie in his mouth. He chewed fast, swallowed, and took another before turning to go. Over his shoulder he said, "Father's coming this way and he's in a rotten mood."

T'Naisa sighed and reached for another brownie. Before it was half eaten, Spock entered the dining hall. She could see his hackles rising as he caught sight of Travis.

He headed straight for their table.

As he neared, Travis pushed the bag toward him. "Care for a brownie, Mr. S'chn T'gai?" He pronounced the Vulcan name flawlessly.

T'Naisa spoke up. "Spock's not like me. He can't eat them."

"How unfortunate," Travis murmured. "A life without chocolate is no life at all."

Spock ignored the remark and focused on T'Naisa. "I've completed the arrangements for our tour. We leave the day after tomorrow."

"Good," she said. "Jamie's been driving me crazy about Plum Creek."

"I don't blame him," Travis commented. "It sounds like a wonderful place to get away from it all." He looked over at Spock. "I'm glad you're here. I've been meaning to see you."

Spock turned to the doctor with a reluctance so obvious that it embarrassed T'Naisa.

"Yes?" Spock said coolly.

Travis stood. "I'm very interested in your late wife's research on Vulcan plakir-fee. May I access it?"

Spock replied at once. "I am sorry, but that is not possible."

T'Naisa gasped.

Travis opened his mouth, but for a moment said nothing. His eyes hardened to blue steel. "Lauren saved you from that disease. She put her heart and soul into the research. Now you're hoarding it? Selfish son-of-a-gun! I can't imagine what a woman like her ever saw in you." He abruptly stalked from the dining hall, leaving behind him an uncomfortable silence.

T'Naisa shook her head in disbelief. "Really, Spock! You've given that data to Starfleet Medical, to the Vulcan Academy of Science, and to scores of other research facilities."

"True," he concurred, "but I cannot possibly give Lauren's data to that man."

"Why not?" she demanded.

He was slow to answer. "It is a personal matter. Suffice it to say that Travis Van Allen is a libertine…and need I remind you, T'Naisa, that you are a Yanashite…and at least nominally, my wife?"

"I know what I am," she retorted in a temper. "Lately it's _you_ I'm not sure about. Two measures of a Yanashite are kindness and generosity. You imply that the doctor's morals are questionable, but when _I_ look at him _,_ all I see is a caring, considerate man."

oooo

Spock strode into the infirmary and glanced around. Sordath sat alone at a medical console. The old healer looked up from his work.

Spock asked, "Where is Doctor Van Allen?"

"He has transported out," Sordath replied. "You just missed him."

Spock felt tension draining from his body, but he was still far from relaxed. "Transporting is expensive…yet he seems to be coming here more and more frequently."

Sordath's face brightened. "Yes, he does."

"You seem pleased."

"Sometimes he brings medications and other useful supplies. I am very interested in his traditional herbal remedies. And you are aware that the good doctor charges nothing, even on consultations."

"A veritable saint," Spock murmured.

The healer tilted his gray head. "You spoke?"

"I fear," Spock said, "that we are taking up too much of the good doctor's time and resources. Perhaps we should encourage him to come less often."

"Perhaps," Sordath sighed, "perhaps."

oooo

T'Naisa spent the first leg of the tour in misery, and they arrived at Tah'mor. She was thankful that her time alone with Spock was very limited. He had become so distant and uncommunicative that fear was taking root in her heart. Perhaps she should not have reproached him about the research. When the tour ended, would he demand an annulment? She had known from the beginning that their so-called "marriage" was only temporary—a loveless ruse enabling him to maintain custody of Jamie. But now that Jamie was in his teens, he could choose his own custodial arrangement.

And what of Plum Creek? Spock had bought the mountain cabin because she loved it. That day, she had dared to hope that he might someday love her, too. Now it seemed very likely that she would lose Spock, Jamie, _and_ her beloved cabin.

Night came. As T'Naisa wept alone in her bed, Spock lay sleeping in another part of the house and began to enter a dream.

… _He was outdoors at Plum Creek, surrounded by moonlit conifers, searching for T'Naisa. In the shadows, something moved. Was it her? He was calling out her name when a dark form stepped into his path. Part man, part beast, the menacing creature reared on two legs and lunged at him…_

Spock awoke suddenly, with a feeling of dread that defied all attempts to reason it away. In the morning he travelled with T'Naisa by transporter to his uncle's home in Tareel. This was the place where Yanash first came to them after his resurrection. Sparn was no longer affiliated with Baruk School, but together with his wife T'Prinka, had opened their home as a shrine.

The local community of believers listened with interest as Spock and T'Naisa spoke of Plum Creek, but Spock's heart was not in it. The trouble with T'Naisa was fast becoming a torment. He could not bear her involvement with Van Allen, but she seemed determined to continue the relationship. And since he was not truly her husband, he had no authority over her.

The moment came for them to leave Tareel, and Sparn had promised them the use of a skimmer.

"It has just been serviced," Sparn said. With a hint of amusement he added, "If it starts, it will fly."

As Spock was gathering their luggage T'Naisa said, "I'll give the skimmer a try," and promptly rushed out the door.

To Spock, her behavior seemed immature—like a child running off in a hurry to claim a toy. With a sigh, he turned to thank Sparn and T'Prinka for their hospitality.

"My uncle…" he began.

Just then a tremendous blast shook the house. Light flashed through the window slits and debris pelted the thick outer wall. For an instant Spock stood frozen with shock, then he dropped the luggage and ran outside. Heat radiated from the landing pad where the broken shell of a skimmer was engulfed in flames.

An irrational anger seized him. _What had she done now?_

Then he realized that she had—most likely—been inside the skimmer when it exploded.

Twice Spock started toward it, but the blazing heat drove him back. Then he turned and saw her lying in a crumpled heap near the road. The explosion had thrown her clear of the wreckage.

Behind him he heard T'Prinka say, "I have sent for help."

Fearing what he would find, Spock went to the body. T'Naisa was alive, conscious, struggling for air. He dropped to his knees beside her. Giving no thought to emergency procedures, he gathered her upper torso into his arms. She coughed and the blood running from her mouth spattered him. Green foam bubbled from a gaping chest wound.

Wide open with panic, her eyes stared into his. "I…can't…breathe," she gasped.

Acting on some long-ago training, Spock pressed a fist into the open sucking wound. It seemed to help her a little. Sparn settled in beside them and began a prayer for the dying.

T'Naisa tried hard to speak. "I used…to dream…of your arms…around me."

"Hush," Spock urged, his throat aching with unshed tears. "Save your breath. Help is coming."

She choked on her blood. "Haven't you…loved me…even a little?"

She was looking to him for an answer when her eyes rolled back and her lids closed. In Spock's arms, her body shuddered once and went still.

"She's gone," Sparn said.

oooo

T'Naisa was out of surgery and Spock stood at her bed in blood-stained clothing, the smell of which was mildly nauseating. Having been raised human, T'Naisa lacked the training to achieve a healing trance. The damage to her body was severe—both lungs torn, broken bones, a severe concussion. She would be dead, had the emergency team not arrived with portable life support before brain damage set in.

Still shaken by the experience, Spock gazed at the halfling's pale, exquisite features; at her unruly red hair spread over the pillow. He could no longer deny the tender, possessive feelings she aroused in him. Yanash had once said, _'One day you will welcome her.'_ Is this what the Shiav had meant? To welcome T'Naisa into his heart, into his life? But how could he when he still loved Lauren…?

Spock's eyes rose to the monitor above the bed. Vital signs were stable. The monitor was linked to the nurses' station, so after a time he went in search of a hospital fresher to clean his clothes.

oooo

Alone, T'Naisa felt a sudden surge of panic and climbing it like a rope, fought her way to consciousness. Awake and disoriented, she lay still for a moment, catching her breath. The soreness in her chest began to trigger memories. A flash of light, a thunderous blast, her body broken and bloody.

Inhaling deeply, she cried out from the resulting pain. "Spock!"

He immediately appeared at her side. Though his presence comforted her, there a deep sense of embarrassment as she remembered the intimate words she had said to him…and what he had failed to say.

"So…" she sighed, "I'm alive, after all. How very awkward." She smiled weakly. "What happened?"

Just then a female healer entered the room and examined her. Pleased with the findings, she announced, "You are responding well to the treatment. Bones knitting, soft tissues recovering. At this rate you will likely go home in ten days."

All through her recovery, Spock hovered nearby. T'Naisa knew how he distrusted Vulcan hospitals when it came to treating Yanashites, but when he told her about the bomb, she was as eager as him to reach the safety of Baruk. After a week she rose from bed, sat in a chair, and made some feeble attempts at walking. For once, Spock urged her to eat well and she did her best to please him, but had little appetite.

Neither of them mentioned the things she had said after the bombing, while he held her.

They returned to Baruk by transporter and Jamie welcomed her with a hearty embrace. In T'Naisa's weakened state, the teenager's arms seemed unusually strong, and looking into his eyes, she realized how fast Jamie was growing. They were almost the same height now.

For once, Jamie did not ask about Plum Creek. The speaking tour had been cut short, but as news of the bombing spread among the Yanashites, donations began to pour in. T'Naisa tried to set aside her fear of losing Spock and Jamie, and concentrate on regaining her strength. If Spock was thinking of an annulment, he kept it to himself and continued to treat her with unusual consideration. Perhaps he pitied her as one pitied a foolish, lovesick child. Did it really matter? As long as the three of them returned to Plum Creek, she would ask for nothing more.

oooo

Spock was concerned about T'Naisa. Now that she was at Baruk, her rate of recovering slowed and she developed a cough, along with a low grade fever. At the end of the school week, he dismissed his final class and went to the infirmary for a consultation with the healer.

"Her lungs are still quite fragile," Sordath said. "The sooner she can leave this dust and heat, the better. Have you finalized the plans for your journey to Earth? She will benefit from a planet richer in oxygen."

"It must wait," Spock told him. "Plum Creek is snowbound. In Idaho it is barely spring; the mountain weather is too changeable for construction."

"T'Naisa's health will not wait," declared the healer. "You have a grown daughter in Arizona. Take her there."

It seemed to Spock that Sordath was suggesting a vacation. "Sir, I have a responsibility to Baruk. Perhaps, if my daughter is agreeable, I could send T'Naisa ahead…"

"You have a trained assistant," Sordath pointed out. "In her present condition, T'Naisa should not travel alone. Is she not your wife?" And sitting down at his desk, he focused his attention on a monitor.

Spock was turning to leave when his eyes lit on an article of clothing draped over a chair—a lightweight coat sometimes worn by doctors on Earth. Every muscle in his body tensed.

He asked, "Doctor Van Allen is here?"

The healer glanced up. "Yes. He went to check on T'Naisa."

oooo

T'Naisa was resting on her bed, listening to music, when the knock came.

Thinking it was Jamie, she said, "Come on in!"

Travis Van Allen entered the room and smiled charmingly. "My word, you're looking well…but I hear you've developed a bit of a cough." He closed the door behind him.

T'Naisa fought a surge of embarrassment. Though she was fully clothed and Travis was a doctor, having him in her bedroom made her uneasy. She turned off the music. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she sat up.

"I'm fine, really," she said, stifling a cough.

Travis brought out his medscanner from a pocket. "I'll be the judge of that…if you don't mind."

It would have seemed rude to refuse him. He sat down beside her. The instrument hummed as he passed it over her body.

T'Naisa felt a little dizzy from fever and found herself asking a question that had been on her mind for a long time. "Travis…why doesn't Spock like you?"

He switched off the scanner. Almost casually he said, "I'm an affront to his manhood. You see, his wife showed an interest in me."

T'Naisa was shocked. _"Lauren?"_

"She was quite lovely," he mused. Assuming a professional air, he reached for the fastenings on her shirt. "Let's take a look at that chest wound."

Feeling very uncomfortable, T'Naisa allowed him to examine her. As his hand left the wound site and moved onto her breast, she abruptly pulled her shirt closed and said, "Stop it!"

His blue eyes opened wide with feigned innocence. "Stop what?" Then all at once, he ceased pretending. "My dear, you are extraordinarily beautiful. Does _he_ ever tell you that? Or say that he loves you? His kind doesn't know the meaning of the word…but T'Naisa, you're different. Inside, you're human…like me."

He gently touched her face.

Her heart pounding, T'Naisa stood. "I said stop it."

He rose beside her. His voice grew soft and persuasive. "What harm is there? You aren't married. Not really. What sort of man could live with you day after day, and not…" His hands closed over her arms.

T'Naisa wrenched free and backed away from him. "What you are suggesting is a sin."

"A sin!" he scoffed, following her. "To deny yourself satisfaction is a sin against nature." His handsome face relaxed into a self-assured smile. "You look like a frightened little fawn. A red-haired Bambi. Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you. Is that what you think?"

"I think," she said in disgust, "that Spock is right about you. Lauren didn't stray, did she? _You_ went after _her!"_

"She was ready and waiting."

"Like me?"

oooo

Spock stood outside T'Naisa's bedroom, his finger hovering over the doorchime as he considered every aspect of the present situation. One did not enter a woman's room unbidden, unless that woman was your wife. _Was he or was he not T'Naisa's husband?_ More and more the question plagued him and though there was no clear answer, some inner urging made him reach out and swing the door open.

T'Naisa and Van Allen stood near the bed in close proximity. As they turned, he saw that she was holding her shirt closed and seemed greatly relieved to see him.

"Well, well," Van Allen smirked.

His face hard as Vulcan granite, Spock stepped inside and confronted the doctor. "Get out."

Travis bristled. "Who the hell do you think you are? This isn't _your_ room, now is it?"

For an instant Spock wondered if he had misread T'Naisa's expression. She looked pale as death as he told her, "If I have overstepped my authority, I beg your pardon. Do you want Van Allen here?"

Tears sprang into her eyes. "No! He…he was after me!"

There was no need for any further questions. Spock turned the full force of his anger upon the unwelcome guest. Lunging, he seized Van Allen with both hands and thrust him into the hallway, where he landed in heap.

"Get out of this school," Spock said through his teeth, "and never come back again. Is that clear?"

Without waiting for an answer, he slammed the door shut.

He took a moment to collect himself before turning toward T'Naisa. The tears had spilled onto her face.

He asked, "Did he hurt you?"

"I'm alright," she replied, clutching her shirt and visibly trembling. "I should never have let him in…but…he's a _doctor_ and he said…"

Spock experience a deep welling of tenderness. He remembered her words as she lay in his arms, fighting for breath. _Had he loved her…even a little?_ He had not meant to give his heart, but he could no longer deny that reality. And he knew that she loved him, had perhaps always loved him, even in the turbulent days before Yanash taught her love's proper use.

Heart hammering, he crossed the room and gazed into her dark, questioning eyes.

"T'Naisa…" he said, and his hand moved toward her. It was too late to draw back now. An invisible line had been crossed. Deep inside him a channel opened, loosing a flood of emotion too powerful to contain. His fingertips touched her smooth cheek. The damp eyes widened and her lips parted with astonishment as their surface thoughts gently mingled.

"T'Naisa," he whispered, receiving her affection and freely answering with his own.

Her arms went around him. Her silky red hair nestled against his throat while he fingered it and inhaled its sweet fragrance. She began to weep tears of joy. He held her until she quieted, and then laid her down to rest.

oooo

Spock approached the task before him with some trepidation. He recalled how the adolescent T'Beth had reacted to the news that he was marrying Lauren Fielding. Now, when Spock was about to join with T'Naisa Brandt, would James show the same displeasure? At first even the thought of their mock marriage had disturbed the boy. One never knew what to expect from a teenager and for that reason Spock decided to speak privately with James as they were preparing for bed in the room they shared.

He began on a pleasant, positive note. "James, we will be leaving for Earth in ten days."

Predictably, the boy's face lit with excitement. "Really? But I thought we had to wait longer."

"The situation has changed," Spock told him.

Smiling happily, James stretched out on his bed.

Spock went over and sat down beside him. "Before we leave, T'Naisa and I will be going off by ourselves for a few days."

The boy's dreamy expression remained unchanged. It was not unusual for Spock or T'Naisa to leave Baruk for Community business.

"You said there was snow at Plum Creek," James recalled. "I can't wait to see it."

A feeling of nervousness sidled through Spock's stomach. "Yes…I realize that you are anxious to return to Plum Creek, but because of T'Naisa's health, we will be staying in Arizona until the weather warms." The look in his son's eyes changed to disappointment. "And there is more...about T'Naisa and myself."

James just lay there, deeply attentive.

Clearing his throat, Spock said, "There is a reason why T'Naisa and I will need some time alone. It is called…the Toi-Chana. The time of bonding."

James frowned and rose onto one elbow. "Bonding?"

Spock drew in a slow breath and said, "We are going to be married."

James suddenly sat upright, his frown deepening. "But you already are…oh!" He blushed furiously. "You mean… _really_ married?"

Spock felt his own face warming considerably. "Yes. I will be her husband and she will be my wife."

For a long moment James stared down at the bedcovers and was silent. Then the corners of his mouth began to quirk upward. Glancing at Spock, he said, "Then…I'll finally get a room of my own? All to myself?"

Spock's sense of embarrassment deepened. "Yes, of course. All to yourself."

"Oh, boy!" James said with exuberance. "When can I move out?"

oooo

In the midst of the marital Kuru, a gong sounded. The ancient Seleyan temple was nearly full to capacity. Incense curled through the air, mingling with the sweet scent of flowers T'Prinka and Sparn had provided for the ceremony. Back at Baruk, sandstorms continued to rage, but here the air was still and clean.

Even so, T'Naisa was unwell. Her face looked pallid but lovely as she walked beside Spock to the front of the sanctuary where Sorel awaited them. Clothed in scarlet wedding robes, they stood before the priest as he began the age-old formula, adapted to Yanashite ways.

Sorel asked, "Who is this that comes before me?"

They answered, "Spock of Yanash", "T'Naisa of Yanash."

"What does thee ask of the Community?"

Spock gave the reply. "We ask for the sacred bonding of Vulcan marriage."

After a moment Sorel stretched out his right hand and said, "Your thoughts."

Spock looked at T'Naisa. Her wavy red hair was plaited in the Vulcan manner. Her deep brown eyes were pools of love. Together they went to their knees and Sorel briefly touched his fingers to the meld points on Spock's face, then T'Naisa's, confirming their honest intent. The priest then signaled to Spock's son Simon, a seminarian acting as an altar server. Simon handed Sorel an ornate wedding sash. Solemnly the priest joined Spock's left hand to T'Naisa's right, palms pressed to palms, wrists interlinked. Using the sash, he bound their arms snugly together.

Once more, the gong was struck.

Sorel reached out and his hands hovered over their heads. "Male and female God created thee. As it was in the dawn of our days, as it is today, as it will be through all our tomorrows, two become one."

His lean hands moved back to their meld points and for a moment the minds of all three participants connected. Then Sorel withdrew, but his skilled touch had established a nascent link between husband and wife.

Spock looked into the eyes of his bondmate and she smiled at him radiantly.

Sorel stepped to the altar and returned with the newly consecrated chalice of Living Water. Holding it before the kneeling couple, he intoned, "Behold the Shiav's blood, poured out for our redemption. One and together, you will share from the Cup of Life."

"Let it always be so," they responded.

Grasping the chalice with his free hand, Spock took a sip. Then Sorel passed the Living Water to T'Naisa. After returning the chalice to the altar, Sorel placed his hands upon their heads and imparted a marital blessing.

At that point Spock and T'Naisa expected to hear the celebratory shaking of a bell rack, but what followed came as a surprise. The Seleyan children's choir had quietly assembled and now their angelic voices rose in song.

Spock unwound the sash binding him to T'Naisa. Her skin felt feverish against his and her eyes were overly bright. As he helped her to her feet, she swayed. Spock saw the faint coming. Lifting his wife into his arms, he carried her out of the temple.

oooo

Though she could not quite decipher the words, T'Naisa heard voices nearby. Gradually she summoned the strength to open her eyes and found the healer T'Annel bending over her. T'Naisa's robe had been unfastened and drawn back, exposing the lighter garment underneath. Cool, oxygen-rich air was circulating in Spock's cave-like room.

She drew in a deep breath and coughed. Her chest felt sore.

"She will be alright now," the healer said to someone. "She is continuing to have some difficulty regulating her body temperature and her lungs are delicate, but there it still no sign of infection. Be sure she takes the Triox four times a day while she is on Vulcan."

T'Naisa turned her head and saw Spock standing close by her pillow. He looked deeply troubled.

The healer left the chamber and closed the door behind her.

Still in his wedding robe, Spock sat beside T'Naisa on the bed. She gave him a wan smile. "I fainted, didn't I? How embarrassing."

Some of the worry cleared from his face. "It was a pleasant task, carrying you."

Wishing that she could have felt his arms around her, she sighed. "Is the Kuru over? They'll be expecting us in the dining hall…"

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

She took hold of his strong hand and their new mind-link told him that she was hungering for something other than food. Responding to the invitation, he leaned over and kissed her mouth. Then again, deeply.

Parting from her, he looked into her eyes and said, "I believe your appetite might benefit from an hour of rest. And so would mine."

He sent word of their delay before turning off his wrist phone. In view of T'Naisa's health, no one would question it. A switch on the door posted the Vulcan symbol of privacy, which even his sons respected.

At last they were truly alone.

Spock set his phone on a shelf near the bed and unfastened his outer robe. As he turned and gazed upon her, his lips stirred into a smile. With outstretched arms T'Naisa welcomed him. _An hour,_ she thought. So short a time after the endless years of waiting and wanting. But for now, it would have to do.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

With the ritual bonding of Toi-Chana, Spock's love for T'Naisa deepened. When they reached Arizona, James stayed with T'Beth in the main house so his parents could have the guest cottage to themselves. On warm days T'Naisa swam in the family pool, hoping the exercise would help rebuild her strength. But the stubborn cough remained and she continued to suffer sudden, inexplicable fevers.

Even when T'Naisa was not feeling well, she enjoyed Spock's grandchildren. At nine years of age, Bethany had grown tall and beautiful, with golden hair that reminded Spock of his slain daughter, Teresa. Louis was a sturdy, dark-haired boy of three who showed signs of high intelligence like the father he physically resembled.

Out of concern for her health, Spock never left T'Naisa for long, and invariably returned bearing some small present—a flower or edible delicacy to tempt her flagging appetite.

One day he produced a gift-wrapped box, and settling beside her on the cottage sofa, said, "I remember your fondness for cherries." He raised her hand to his lips and their eyes met as he kissed it—that same hand from which he had once knocked a bag of the fruit.

She opened the box and was delighted to find candied cherries covered in fine chocolate. "Oh, you're spoiling me," she declared and immediately sampled one.

He, too, was remembering that terrible day. "To think that I once threatened to kill you...and you were only trying to assist me."

"I remember your hands on my neck," she recalled with a shudder. "And that hateful look on your face. You had suffered a great loss and turned from the Shiav…"

His gaze left her and sitting back, he said low, "There was a time when I thought that no woman was safe with me. I'm glad that I told you of those incidents…and others. There should never be any secrets between us."

"Agreed," she said, laying her palm on his leg. He had long known of her failings, and before their bonding he had revealed several of his own. The illicit relationship with a Sy-jeera that led to T'Beth's birth, and his subsequent rejection of that child. His battle with drug addiction. The female ensign slain at his hands while under the symbiotic influence of an alien. The ugly attack on Lauren during the final moments of pon farr. "You confessed all that to the Shiav himself and he forgave you." Kissing his cheek, she told him, "Now you need to forgive yourself."

Turning to her, his eyes smiled. "My young wife is wise today."

"Only today?" she asked. Arching her brow in amusement, she offered him a candy. "Go ahead, one won't make you tipsy. As someone once said, 'A life without chocolate…'"

"…Is a Vulcan's life," he finished in his own words. Nevertheless, he accepted the offering.

oooo

For a time T'Naisa's health seemed to improve, and Spock began finalizing the necessary arrangements for the construction at Plum Creek. He looked forward to establishing a Yanashite retreat in the mountains of Idaho, for the news from Vulcan was not encouraging. In addition to vandalism, more bombs had been set off, leaving two Community members dead. Every day more Yanashites were leaving their home planet for the relative safety of Earth. Now more than ever, those immigrants would need a peaceful sanctuary.

In late April, Spock took T'Naisa to Starfleet Medical Center in Phoenix, where Doctor McCoy still worked three days a week. After introductions, Spock and T'Naisa briefly described her case history. McCoy asked T'Naisa a few questions of his own, then had her lie on a diagnostic bed for appraisal.

As readings appeared on the wall display, the old doctor remarked, "Curious. It's as if something has triggered her body's immune response. It sometimes happens with traumatic injuries."

He picked up a datapadd and made an entry. "T'Naisa, I'm prescribing a low dose immune suppressor—anything stronger would leave you vulnerable to infection." Then breaking into a grin, he said, "Hey, you two. Congratulations on your marriage!"

Following the appointment, T'Naisa faithfully took Doctor McCoy's pills and tried to hide her persistent weakness from Spock. She knew how it troubled him and she did not like playing the part of an invalid. All her life she had enjoyed robust health. She convinced herself that the upcoming move to Plum Creek would restore her strength once and for all.

Finally the day came, but their mountain homecoming brought an ugly surprise. They had just completed a bit of cleaning in the cabin. T'Naisa was putting together a simple dinner and Jamie was out exploring the creek when Spock took a phone call in the living area.

He returned to the kitchen with a grim, preoccupied expression. "Our construction permit has been suspended pending further review. The official was most apologetic, but in light of the news…"

With a sinking feeling, she asked, "What news?"

"It is quite incredible. An 'inside source' is claiming that Yanashites are behind the recent bombings on Vulcan, that it is an attempt to discredit the Traditionalists and gain positions of influence in the government. This same 'inside source' has reported that the Plum Creek Sanctuary will be a training camp for similar terrorist activities."

oooo

"Come on!" Jamie called over his shoulder to T'Naisa. The Appaloosa he rode was spirited and took off galloping across a meadow.

T'Naisa pressured Biscuit with her knees and gave him the reins. The buckskin gelding needed no further encouragement. Leaping forward, he broke into a run that sent T'Naisa's hair streaming behind her like a red banner. Bending low over Biscuit's neck, she reveled in the sense of freedom. Jim Kirk had recently loaned them the horses, and she went out as often as her health permitted. It worried Spock so much that he insisted upon Jamie accompanying her. Despite his concern, she sometimes rode by herself, wearing a wrist phone in case of emergency.

The sun was slipping behind the mountains and the air was growing cool when she returned with Jamie to Plum Creek. Though the ride had put color in her cheeks, she was tired. Jamie volunteered to care for both horses. Grateful, she went into the cabin and found Spock seated on the sofa, viewing the latest news from Vulcan on their wall screen.

His face was somber as he said, "The 'inside source' has spoken again, raising the old accusation that Yanashites sabotaged the vrekatras at Gol. The investigation might be reopened."

T'Naisa felt a stirring of fear. "Can they do that…just on the word of an anonymous source? Wouldn't he have to come forward and publicly testify?"

"I should think so," Spock replied. "I would very much like to know the identity of this unprincipled 'insider'. His lies are damaging the Community."

T'Naisa settled on the cushions beside him. "I hope you don't get subpoenaed."

He sniffed the air. Turning toward her, he said, "You smell like a horse. A very lovely horse…"

As he drew her into a kiss, she did not need to say it aloud. _A mule, you mean._ With the mingling of their surface thoughts and emotions, he clearly read it, along with the pain her sterility caused her.

When they parted, the words sprang from the depths of her heart. "Oh, how I wish I could have your child!"

"I know," Spock said, but he was coming to believe that perhaps it was best, after all, that her body not bear the added strain of pregnancy.

That night, a thunderstorm awakened them in the new, roomy bed they shared. Lightning flashed and rumbled as hailstones rattled on the cabin roof.

T'Naisa sat straight up, her eyes shining. "Oh, isn't it beautiful? What power God has!"

Spock gazed at her in wonder. Strange, how the same childlike enthusiasm that he had once found so annoying, now brought him nothing but pleasure. With a bit of a wry smile he said, "Ask God to use some of that power defending his Yanashites. Maybe if you ask nicely, he will reveal the 'inside source' to you."

She took him seriously and closed her eyes in prayer. Then nestling close to him, she said, "Yanash told us to expect obstacles. Nothing will stand in the way of our retreat house if he wants it built."

Spock continued to tease her. "He knows that you really want to keep Plum Creek to yourself."

"Impudent halfling!" She took a playful swat at his bare chest, but he easily caught her hand and rolled over, pinning her beneath him.

Then he silenced her laughter with a kiss, and they made love as the storm raged over the mountain.

oooo

T'Naisa rose early and walked a damp woodland trail toward a vista point that overlooked a steep canyon. The rising sun was tinting a few residual clouds pink when a tantalizing aroma came drifting on the breeze. She followed the scent back to the cabin where she found Jamie standing at the stove, tending a skillet.

"It _is_ bacon!" she cried. "But I thought your father…"

"Can't stand the smell?" Jamie shrugged. "I know, but he bought it. He said he can put up with anything if it pleases you."

T'Naisa's heart warmed. "He knows how I like it."

Breakfast was ready. She sat down to eat bacon and eggs with Jamie, who was not a vegetarian like his father. Between bites she said, "He's not still sleeping, is he?"

"No. On the phone, I guess. He got a call just before you came in."

They were finishing the last of their meal when Spock came out of the bedroom. One glance at his stony face and T'Naisa realized something was terribly wrong. Her heart sensed its way toward him through the bond they shared and met a disturbing resistance.

"Leave us," Spock told his son.

Jamie knew trouble when he saw it, grabbed his schoolbag, and headed out.

T'Naisa's heart began to pound out of control. "Spock, what is it?" she said breathlessly. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

His eyes never left hers as he settled into Jamie's chair and pushed the empty plate aside. His hand opened. Something clattered onto the table.

T'Naisa recognized her wrist phone. Was that what this was all about? "I only promised to wear it when I'm riding," she declared in a defensive tone.

His expression grew even harder. "You've made calls," he said.

"A few. Why?"

"Calls through a secret data link. _Covert_ calls."

T'Naisa's tension deepened. "I don't know what you're talking about. Am I in some kind of trouble with the phone company?" She sensed his intense displeasure with her response. Her stomach knotted and she felt queasy. "Spock! Explain it to me!"

In the coldest of tones, he said, "Your calls to the press have been traced and voice printed. There is no mistaking the facts. _You_ are the 'inside source'."

T'Naisa sat in shocked silence, watching him battle his anger and abruptly return to the bedroom. Her body began to shudder. She ran into the bathroom and lost her breakfast. For several minutes she sat on the floor sobbing, too sick to move. _Phone records? Voice prints?_ How could he believe that she would do such a wicked thing? And did he really think her capable of hiding it from him…even in their most intimate moments?

The cabin was very small. Spock heard the sounds of T'Naisa's sickness, heard her tears. And he thought: _It is the response of someone whose guilt has been revealed._

He stood staring out the bedroom window, his heart leaden as he called to mind her lawless past. So she had not changed, after all. Somehow she had managed to deceive him and deal a crippling blow to the entire Yanashite Community. And for what?

Bitter moments passed.

At last he heard movement in the house. The bedroom door opened. Knowing who he would find, he forced himself to turn and look at her. T'Naisa stood bracing herself in the doorway. Her face was white, her eyes irritated from weeping.

Suddenly there was no controlling his anger. "Why the _hell_ did you do it? To prevent the retreat house from being built? To keep Plum Creek all for yourself? Well, you can _have_ it all! You may stay here, far away from me, and receive the reporters at your leisure! " He took a step toward the door, but she was blocking his way.

A sob escaped her. "Is that what you think? That I'm nothing but a selfish, thoughtless…"

"Tell me then!" The words tore at his throat. "What else _am_ I to think?"

She entered the room fully. Collapsing on the unmade bed, she curled up in a fetal position, looking utterly desolate and ill. Now was his chance to leave this painful mistake behind him and never come back. He would get James from school and return to Vulcan on the earliest possible flight. Why did he linger?

T'Naisa rose up on one elbow, her face hardening with resolve. "I don't know who you've been talking to, but it's a lie. God knows that—for once—I'm completely innocent." Sitting up fully, she said, "You think you know everything. Well, come here, then. Put your hand on my face and see how smart you are. Go ahead, search every corner of my mind. I have nothing to hide."

It was the last thing he would have expected. Did she believe she could keep the truth from him in a deep meld? He did not want to explore her deceitful thoughts. Most of all, he did not want her to see how badly she was wounding him.

As her eyes offered their silent challenge, he felt an inevitable stirring in his bonding center. He had entrusted this woman with his heart, and though his heart was bleeding, they were still bondmates. There was a deep biological pressure to respond.

"Afraid that you might be wrong?" she flung at him.

"I wish I were," he replied stiffly, "but the facts are indisputable." He accepted the challenge anyway and sat down beside her. No discipline could calm his inner turmoil as he placed his hand upon her face and closed his eyes. Steeling himself, he entered her mind.

The meld was deep and thorough. Many thoughts needed airing and many emotions needed to be soothed before the couple withdrew from the mental joining, each to their own individual consciousness. Afterward, they held one another tightly for a long time.

T'Naisa knew that her fever had returned. She disliked the feeling of weakness it gave her, but for now she was content just to bask in her husband's presence, knowing that they had weathered the crisis and all was well between them. No matter how convincing the evidence, Spock knew beyond a doubt that she was not guilty.

Later, he left her to rest and spent the day reviewing the phone records. By noon, her name was on all the news services. Their phone jammed with unwelcome messages. Reporters who neared the cabin received an automated transmission warning them against trespassing. After school, Jamie rode a horse over to Jim Kirk's ranch for an indefinite stay.

Toward evening, T'Naisa began to feel a little hungry and ordered a mug of potato soup from the kitchen replicator. Spock was still at the computer, studying a timeline graph. Bringing her soup to the living area, she pulled up a chair and sat close beside him.

"Any progress?" She took a spoonful of the replicated soup. It was not nearly as good as homemade.

Spock pointed at the graph. "As you can see, the timing of each call coincides perfectly with your opportunities to use a phone in private. Usually you were on horseback, alone."

"Someone's out here, then. Someone's spying on us?"

"Or…"

She waited for him to continue. Deep in thought, he looked over at her and watched as she stirred the soup. An uneasy feeling settled into her touchy stomach. Lowering the mug, she said, "Or…I really _am_ making those calls, but don't know it? In other words, I'm crazy?"

"Crazy?" It took a moment for him to answer. "Your mind is as logical and orderly as any woman's, but there is another distinct possibility. Mind control."

oooo

Within the week, Spock had T'Naisa quietly admitted to Starfleet Medical Center, where Doctor McCoy would supervise a battery of tests. T'Naisa's health had deteriorated. In addition to the fevers and cough, she was now frequently nauseous. It pained Spock to see her once hearty appetite dwindling away to nothing. Each day she seemed to grow thinner.

He told McCoy about his suspicion of mind control and wondered if some of T'Naisa's symptoms might stem from it. Aboard the Enterprise they had encountered many strange situations.

After the first day of testing, the doctor entered T'Naisa's room with a peculiar look on his face. Sitting at his wife's bedside, Spock prepared himself for some dire revelation.

"Well," McCoy said with a bemused expression, "I haven't turned up any sign of mind control yet…but I _have_ found something that accounts for at least part of the symptoms. You're not going to believe what I have to say. It's a rarity, that's for sure…but facts are facts."

Spock turned to T'Naisa and looking into her eyes found a dread that mirrored his own. She reached for his hand.

McCoy said, "Don't look so damn grim. She's only pregnant."

Spock swung around, his mouth falling open in startlement. "Doctor…you are quite mistaken."

"It can't be," T'Naisa seconded. "I'm a sterile hybrid. My ovaries are underdeveloped."

Incredibly, McCoy agreed. "Yes, ma'am. Functionally, you are sterile…but just the same, you're pregnant."

Silence descended over the room.

Spock's grip on T'Naisa's hand tightened as he considered all the possibilities. "Then…you are telling us that an embryo has somehow been implanted…"

McCoy grinned as if he was enjoying the whole situation immensely. "It's my educated guess that an embryo was implanted in the usual manner. Spock, the child is yours…and T'Naisa's. Even with sterile hybrids, it sometimes happens. All it takes is one egg, and we know that you are intermittently fertile. Come winter, there'll be a new little girl in your family."

oooo

All evening T'Naisa felt as if she would burst with joy. Neither she nor Spock slept, though the hospital provided a lounge for him by her bed. The medication Doctor McCoy prescribed for nausea had settled her stomach. After midnight, she dressed and they went downstairs to the empty hospital cafeteria. T'Naisa had thought she would never want to look at another piece of bacon, but now she found herself craving it. Bacon and pancakes with maple syrup. Even the replicated food tasted good to her. Between bites she smiled at Spock, enjoying the look of perplexity in his eyes.

"Greta," she said suddenly. "What do you think of Greta? I've always liked it."

"This does not seem possible," he repeated for at least the seventh time.

"With God," she reminded him, "anything is possible. Like McCoy said, somehow my ovaries produced an egg. Don't keep questioning it. Just be thankful." Thinking of the tiny life inside her, she smiled.

"I can still scarcely believe it," he persisted.

T'Naisa started on another slice of bacon. "God is good. Maybe this is His way of consoling us in the midst of trouble. Just keep an eye on me so I don't make any phone calls."

"I will not let you out of my sight," he promised.

In the morning, Doctor McCoy ran a panel of psychological tests which proved negative. They were seated in a medical office as he admitted, "We're running out of options. T'Naisa, all along you've seemed to be havin' a heightened immune response, but I haven't found any reason for it. We have to consider the possibility that your body is reacting to something that shouldn't be there…something our instruments can't detect." Pausing, he rubbed at his chin. "I'm sure you've both heard of sensor-resistant nanobots…"

T'Naisa's blood ran cold, and beside her Spock sat up very straight. She had read harrowing stories about the infinitesimal, self-replicating robots let loose in bodies.

McCoy solemnly continued, "They're devilishly hard to detect. However, in theory, your son-in-law's Cell Transmigrator could sift a body and strand any potential nanobots in the matrix." Very slowly he added, "But if the problem _is_ nanobots…and the controllers realize they're in danger of bein' exposed…"

Spock gravely surmised, "They may want the host eliminated before the truth comes out."

McCoy nodded. "It's impossible to know the sophistication of the programming. And of course," he quickly finished, "this is all conjecture."

Spock and McCoy turned their eyes on T'Naisa—a possible host _—_ and a shiver of fear passed through her. "This Transmigrator," she said. "Would it harm the baby?"

"Shouldn't," McCoy answered. "It's a transporter technology, and pregnant women transport all the time."

oooo

The decision would have to come soon. For now Spock took T'Naisa back to the guest cottage on his daughter's property, where they could consult in length with T'Beth's husband. Spock kept close watch over T'Naisa and was present when an armed pair of Federation agents arrived to question her with a portable verifier.

Soon after the interrogation began, T'Naisa sprang from her chair, eyes flashing. With one hand on the verifier plate, she pointed her free finger at Spock and shouted, "Don't believe him! Don't believe any Yanashite! It's political power they want—assassination, murder—whatever it takes, they'll stop at nothing! Let me just tell you…"

On and on she railed, while Spock stared at her in dismay. There was a strong urge to clamp his hand over her mouth, but any attempt to silence her would only add weight to her charges. At last, with a petulant lift of her chin, she finished the damaging tirade and sank back into her chair.

The agents checked the verifier and turned their attention to Spock.

"Well then," one spoke very quietly, "what have _you_ to say?"

Barely holding his voice steady, Spock replied, "My wife's statement cannot be taken seriously. She has not been herself since the bombing on Vulcan. At that time she sustained a serious head injury…"

"A concussion," the agent said in a dismissive tone.

"A _serious_ concussion," Spock countered, "and is currently under a physician's care. I suggest you contact Doctor Leonard McCoy through Starfleet Medical Center in Phoenix."

"Then you deny everything she's just said?" The agent was openly skeptical. "You may as well know it—the verifier shows that she told us the truth."

Spock looked over at T'Naisa. Gone was the air of a hostile stranger; she appeared sick, weak and confused. "Most likely," he explained, "she _believes_ everything that she said was true, even though it was not. In that case the test is invalid." Crossing the room, he placed his own palm on the verifier plate. "Here and now I deny every charge. Yanashites are not terrorists. We do not seek political power. We seek only spiritual advancement."

Both agents studied the scan and consulted in whispers. Then taking out a padd, the ranking agent said to Spock, "Doctor McCoy. The same one who served with you and Captain Kirk aboard the starship _Enterprise_?"

"Yes. The same." Spock took T'Naisa's hand and gazed into her troubled eyes. "He is a man of high professional standing and unblemished character."

They located the doctor and he was available to speak. Thanks to the brief conversation with McCoy, the agents seemed satisfied for the time being, but it was at best only a temporary reprieve.

Afterward, T'Naisa stood watching Spock pace up and down the small living room of the cottage, and could sense his frustration. Choking back tears, she said, "I don't remember telling them those things…but I have to believe you. It's…it's as if I'm possessed!"

He came to a stop and his dark eyes searched her. "This cannot continue. If nanobots are influencing your behavior, the situation will only grow more dangerous. We have discussed the Transmigrator procedure with Aaron. Are you willing to undergo it?"

"Gladly," she told him.

"Tomorrow then," he said.

As he took her into his arms, the level of her fear subsided. "For better or for worse", the two of them would battle the unseen enemy together.

oooo

Spock sat in their dark bedroom watching T'Naisa toss restlessly in her sleep. Shortly after 1:00 a.m., moonlight entered a window and spread its silvery light over her face. As always, the sight of her fragile beauty moved him. He had lost one wife and daughter already; he could not bear the thought of losing T'Naisa and the precious child she was carrying. A new daughter. How strange it still seemed, yet the facts were undeniable. In some remarkable manner, T'Naisa's simple faith in the Shiav had been rewarded.

At precisely 1:15 T'Naisa rose from the bed and came to him. Wordlessly she settled onto his lap and rested her head against his shoulder. Her soft hair smelled clean and fragrant. For several long, peaceful minutes he held her, enjoying her nearness while her fingers gently caressed his neck.

At last her hand went still and she sighed.

Sensing a change in her, he whispered, "What is it?"

A little gasp escaped her. Then she said, "No…don't let them…"

There was no time to consider the meaning of the words, for suddenly her fingers clamped down tightly. A brief, tingling discomfort in Spock's trapezius muscle swiftly radiated through his entire body. As from a great distance he felt his limbs going numb, but a corner of his mind clung to consciousness. _Nerve pinch. Hand small and ineffective. Revive. Must revive. Find her. Watch her._

Sounds registered. Footsteps. A door opening. A splash…

Adrenaline began to pump through Spock's system, drenching his nerves, awakening them in a dizzying rush of pain. Forcing his eyes open, he stumbled out of the chair and collapsed on the floor. He struggled back to his feet. Staggering outside, he grabbed hold of the pool's diving platform.

Moonlight rippled on the surface of the water. All was still…but deep inside himself he felt his bond to T'Naisa beginning to fade.

Dropping down on his hands and knees, he peered into the pool. A shadowy form lay near the bottom.

It was not a moment for logic. Considering his impairment, Spock knew that he might drown, but just now that did not seem to matter. Drawing a deep breath, he plunged into the cold water.

oooo

T'Naisa awoke suddenly. Shivering and confused, she lay face-down on the hard tile surrounding T'Beth's pool. She coughed and gagged until her stomach emptied of water. Yard lights shone as emergency technicians turned her onto her back and administered oxygen. Nearby, Spock stood wrapped in a blanket from their bed, his hair dripping wet. T'Beth and Aaron were with him.

The technicians lifted her onto a grav-stretcher and covered her warmly. Spock followed her into an air ambulance parked out front.

After they lifted off, she reached for his hand. It felt almost as cold as hers. Fearful of his reply, she asked, "What happened?"

"You don't remember," he said. Not a question, but a statement of fact. He did not expect her to remember. His eyes darkened with pain as he told her, "I found you at the bottom of the pool."

She was too frightened to question him any further.

The ambulance was landing in a bay at Starfleet Medical Center when T'Naisa felt her mind starting to slip again. For a time there was only darkness.

"I think she's back," someone said.

Now she found herself lying in an examination room. Restraint bands clamped her arms securely to the bedrails. To her right, Doctor McCoy and Aaron Pascal stood gazing down at her intently. Spock was on the left. He had changed into different clothes. His hair was dry and neatly combed.

Leaning over, Spock touched the meld points of her face gently, as if testing her thoughts.

"What's wrong with me?" she cried in confusion.

McCoy spoke. "That's what we're going to find out."

Suddenly she felt her back arching. The strange spasm passed upward through her body and the room faded from view.

oooo

In appearance, the Cell Transmigrator was similar to the CAT scanning devices from the late 20th century. Spock had been one of the first patients to enter the claustrophobic tube after Aaron developed the technology. This time he stood on the outside watching as T'Naisa was drawn into the chamber. She was quiet now. An injection of medication had sedated her and put an end to the alarming convulsions.

Doctor McCoy walked over and stood beside him.

After a moment Spock ventured to say, "Leonard…what if there are no nanobots?"

McCoy was slow to answer. Finally he said, "Let's just wait and see."

Spock watched his conscientious son-in-law oversee the technicians operating his invention. At last, Aaron was satisfied with the settings. The machine hummed to life. Inside the chamber, a bright light bathed T'Naisa. Though her body began to shimmer and sparkle, it never fully dissolved. After three minutes the process visibly slowed until she returned to a solid physical state and the machine went silent.

Aaron and the technicians studied the Transmigrator readout screen.

Aaron called over his shoulder, "Spock, McCoy, look at this."

They joined him, and with relief Spock saw some unspecified element trapped in the matrix. There it would remain, securely contained, until the FIA lab could claim the evidence and analyze it. As T'Naisa was drawn out of the chamber, it seemed to Spock that her face had regained some of its former color. He followed her to the recovery room and sat at her side, waiting for the sedative to wear off.

The greater part of an hour passed before she began to stir. Then opening her eyes, she saw him and managed a smile.

"I was dreaming," she said. "I was healthy and strong. I was holding our child in my arms. We named her Megan."

oooo

Back home in Plum Creek, T'Naisa found it hard to believe that she had ever resisted the idea of building a Yanashite Sanctuary. The sound of the carpentry tools seemed like music as she gardened in the new planting beds along the cabin's foundation. Flowering shrubs, hardy perennials, and a few vegetables that tolerated shade.

Biscuit nickered from the small stable built to shelter him and their burro, now that the barn was being transformed. Jamie would have to tear himself away from the workers long enough to exercise the horse. Although the fevers had left T'Naisa and was feeling much stronger, she would stay out of the saddle until the baby was born.

 _The baby._ Thinking of the little one safe inside her, she smiled. The child would not be born under a shadow. A crime had been committed—not by T'Naisa, but against her. The same Vulcan radicals responsible for the bombings had implanted nanobots during her stay at the hospital in Tareel. Once again, the Yanashites had been exonerated of all wrongdoing.

She heard a footstep behind her and looked up from her gardening to find Spock standing nearby. Wordlessly he reached out to her. Brushing off the worst of the soil, she gave him her hand, and though it was still dirty, he grasped it and helped her up. A shared memory of his first wife stirred and T'Naisa's heart ached with love for him. He would never forget avoiding Lauren's dirty hands in his last moment with her.

"Walk with me," he said.

They set out together and she stopped to rinse off in the creek. The sounds of construction gave way to birdsong as they followed the shady trail to the overlook. As they stood on the ledge together, a warm fragrant breeze swept through the pines. Thunderclouds towered in the sky, sending plumes of rain sweeping over the distant mountain slopes.

T'Naisa sighed. "Our own little 'Inspiration Point'. Isn't it beautiful? I hope there's a storm tonight."

 _"_ _You_ are beautiful," Spock replied with his attention upon her.

Smiling, she turned to him and as their eyes met, she said, "I wonder what she'll look like."

"Megan?"

"Nell."

His eyebrow quirked upward. He might have said in complaint, "Woman, will you ever make up your mind?" Instead he gently smiled and drew her into an embrace so tender and loving that for a moment she closed her eyes and the world faded away, leaving only the three of them.

oooOOooo


End file.
